The Potter Story
by Alex Sar'oc
Summary: the story of harry potter in my pluto's son universe
1. The Beginning

_This Harry Potter story is based in the same universe as my Pluto's Son story, there are some changes that will appear as the story goes on, but one change appears from the start: the story is set one year earlier, meaning Harry is born in 1979, the Halloween defeat of lord V is October 1980 and he starts Hogwarts in 1990._

**Wizengamot Chambers, London, United Kingdom, March 1981**

The Wizengamot meet in a large circular hall decorated in blue and gold, the members of the Wizengamot sat on a large wooden platform with four levels, with seats that displayed the coat of arms of the person the seat belonged to, the platform covered three quarters of the circle, along the walls behind the seats there was multiple doors for the members in exit from. In the wall not covered by the platform there was a very large and very ornate door where guests of the Wizengamot would enter from, opposite this door was a special box that contained the seats for the Chief Warlock, the vice-chief, the representatives of the Ministry of Magic and the scribe who kept the Wizengamots records. The floor of the chamber was white marble with a gold circle of Celtic knot work marking where guests should stand to be heard, the circle was imbued with an enchantment so that the speaker could be heard everywhere without needing to shout, all the lecterns in front of the chairs had the same enchantment.

It had been almost five months since the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort and the Wizengamot was finally getting back to normal, after all the trials and then selecting people for the open seats. The Wizengamot is made up of five groups: the ministry representatives (made up of the Minister, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the Head of the International Magical Cooperation, and two people from within the Ministry chosen by the Minister), the Representatives (people elected into the Wizengamot by the Wizengamot to represent the needs of the "ordinary" people), the Life Electives (also called Life Peers, elected for life to honour their accomplishments), the Low Lords (the lower Peers, Barons and Viscounts, although they outnumber the High Lords they have less power individually), the High Lords (the higher Peers, Dukes, Marquises and Earls).

The March session was turning out to be a highly unusual meeting, it looked like it would finish early, and they had finished everything on the agenda. "Does anybody have any last business before I close this session" Called Albus Dumbledore, Life Peer and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."

"I do" called a voice from the chamber.

"The Chair recognises Fergus MacDowall of Garthland, Duke of Galloway."

"Thank you, I have two issues I would like to bring up first: my sister-in-law works in St Mungo's in the postnatal division, she was telling me about a baby girl in her care for the last six months or more, the baby cannot leave the hospital without a guardian's permission, since her father is dead and her mother died in child birth. I looked into it; she has no guardian because her parent's wills have not been read, the goblins say they have asked multiple times for permission to have the will read but have received no reply. I convinced them that the request must have been lost; I should hope this is the case and not some people deliberately losing them. Outside this chamber is the goblin Sharptooth, he has the necessary certified copies of the wills, I propose we give permission for them to be read and hear the sections relating to guardianship."

There were murmurs of approval throughout the hall, it was agreed to do just that. The goblin Sharptooth was quickly called for and he came in carrying four scrolls sealed with wax seals bearing the Gringotts official seal, he quickly moved to the centre of the hall where he snapped his long fingers and a small table appeared, he put the four scrolls on the table and cleared his throat. "I have the documents" he spoke gruffly in a gravelly voice.

"Very well, please read the wills."

"I will skip the reading of the mothers will as it is simple, everything goes to her daughter, and it contains no direction on the guardianship of the child other than her husband. The fathers' was written before the child was born so contains no reference to the child's gender it reads as follows:"

"**I, Regulus Arcturus Black, Heir of Black, being of sound mind and body, do leave all of my holdings, privileges, money and assets as follows:**

**If my wife and the mother of my child is still alive, I leave everything in the trust of my wife until such time as my child and heir is old enough to manage them on their own.**

**Should my wife precede or accompany me into death, I leave everything to my child and heir, to be managed by Gringotts till my heir is considered of age.**

**In the event of my death the guardianship of my child shall pass to the following people in order of preference:**

**My wife, Anastasia Black nee Golovanov.**

**My mother, Walburga Black.**

**Family allies, the Clan MacDowall.**

**Family allies, the House of Bones.**

**Family allies and cousins, the House of Malfoy."**

"That is what the will say on the guardianship of the child, it had passed to the grandmother Walburga until this morning: when the magical will of Walburga Black became active, meaning she must have died during the night, therefore the guardianship of the child named Cassiopeia Anastasia Black, by the mother, passes to Clan MacDowall. The Will of Walburga Black is simple and she has not updated it in the last year:"

**I, Walburga Black being of sound mind and body, do leave all of my and my families holdings, privileges, money and assets as follows:**

**To my son Regulus, who honours me greatly, I leave all mine and my familial assets.**

**To my son Sirius, who dishonours me greatly, I leave nothing at all."**

"Do you, Fergus MacDowall Chief of Name and Arms of MacDowall [AN1] on behalf of the clan accept guardianship of Cassiopeia Anastasia Black until her majority?"

"I accept guardianship of Cassiopeia Anastasia Black until her majority, so I swear on my magic, so mote it be," as he began to glow to signify his oath becoming binding.

The entire hall echoed back "So mote it be."

"Well, that's one of thing I wanted to bring up, the other is another will. I have been waiting for the Chief Warlock to overturn his decision to seal this will now that the wizarding world is at peace, meaning there is no reason for it being sealed, but since he has not, I call upon my right as a witness to the will of a noble, to have the will opened."

"What will are you referring to my boy" said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling innocently.

"The Potters."

This caused a general uproar in the chamber. "I'm afraid I can't unseal the Potter will, it's for the Greater Good" he said firmly.

"I don't care about your greater good, I care about the law. I call for this body to override the Chief Warlock and unseal the will", most of the hall immediate agreed to this vote, they must do something to thank the boy-who-lived, or be seen to be thankful towards the boy-who-lived in the case of the "imperius" victims.

Due to a conflict of interests the vice-chief called for the vote, and the members agreed almost unanimously. "Sharptooth" he addressed the goblin in the middle of the hall, "do you have a copy of the Potter will?"

"Yes, it reads as:"

"**We, James Charlus Potter and Lily Rose Evans-Potter, Duke and Duchess of Cymru and of Monmouth and Earl and Countess of Anglesey, being of sound mind and body, do leave all of my and my families holdings, privileges, money and assets as follows:**

**We leave all our assets, bearing the bequeaths as stated below, to our son, Harold James Potter, to be managed by Gringotts till our son and heir is old enough to manage his assets on his own.**

**To Remus John Lupin, we leave ten thousand (10,000G) and the cottage in the Highlands, Remus get some decent clothes and stop worrying about your "furry little problem", live your life as you should and no you can't give it back.**

**To Peter Pettigrew, we leave ten thousand (10,000G) and the Marauders Flat in London.**

**To Sirius Orion Black, we leave ten thousand (10,000G) and the deed to the bachelor pad over Diagon Alley.**

**In the event of our deaths the guardianship of our son, Harold James Potter, shall pass to the following people in order of preference:**

**Our son's Godfather, Sirius Orion Black.**

**Our son's Godmother and her husband, Alice Rachael Longbottom nee Wood and Franklin Augustus Longbottom.**

**Family allies, the Clan MacDowall.**

**Family allies, the House of Bones.**

**Under ****NO**** circumstances is our son, Harold James Potter, to be placed into the guardianship of Lily's sister Petunia Marie Dursley nee Evans, she is manophobic and extremely critical of anything she deems to be abnormal."**

"Since Mr Black has been incarcerated, and the Longbottom's are unavailable, the guardianship of Harold James Potter falls to the Clan MacDowall. Do you, Fergus MacDowall Chief of Name and Arms of MacDowall on behalf of the clan accept guardianship of Harold James Potter until his majority?"

"I accept guardianship of Harold James Potter until his majority, so I swear on my magic, so mote it be," as he began to glow to signify his oath becoming binding.

The entire hall echoed back "So mote it be."

"Now Dumbledore, where is my ward Harold James Potter?" Fergus growled at the rather pale Chief Warlock.

"It is for the Greater Good that he stays where he is, he will be protected where he is by the shared blood between him and his family."

"You put him with the Dursley's! They hate anything outside of their normal! Quick call this session to a close so I can leave and get him, I hate to think about what they have been doing to the poor boy in the last five months."

"No! You must leave him where is, the bond of love and blood between family members will power the blood wards to protect him from any remaining Death Eaters"

"Dumbledore! You trusting fool! Family does not necessitate love, and it's not Death Eater's I'm worried about it's the animals that are Lily's remaining Family!"

Once the Wizengamot session had been closed, Fergus became a blur as he left the chamber, the door he used later had to be repaired from the large crack he made in the wood whilst opening it, nearly everyone in the Wizengamot tried very hard to stay on his good side after that.

**Barr Castle, Lochwinnoch, Renfrewshire, Scotland, United Kingdom**

Hours later after Harry had been removed from the dubious care of the Dursley's (they had been arrested for child abuse, Vernon was also suspected of fraud and stealing Grunnings money) Fergus MacDowall was sitting in a wide-backed chair next to a fire, he was nursing a glass of fifty year old whiskey.

"Harry is now with the clan medical staff, it will take a while for him to recover but he will. I should have checked he was in a safe place sooner, but I thought Dumbledore had the sense not to put Harry with the Dursley's. I thought he was caring for Harry himself and was only keeping Harry until things had calmed down."

The person he was addressing could be seen in the light of the fire, she looked to be a tall woman with long dark green hair; she appeared to have red garnet coloured eyes. She was wearing a short black seifuku with maroon bows and black knee high boots, leaning up against her chair was a tall silver staff in the shape of a key, with garnet crystal in the heart shaped bow at the top. "I trust this will mean you no longer take any situation for granted" she replied in perfect English.

"_Du Dearbh, bana-mhaighstair_" [Scottish Gaelic: Of course, mistress]

"I trust you will do the ritual when the children are old enough?" She said as she stood and retrieved her staff.

"Yes, Lady Pluto"

As she raised the crystal above her head, there was a maroon flash and she was gone.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Authors Notes:

Before anyone asks or makes complaints, the name MacDowall is the clan name and the branch Families, Sects and other spellings connected to MacDowall: Coyle, Dole, Dougal, Dougall, Doyle, Dow, Dowdle, Dowall, Dowell, Dowler, Dowling, Dugle, Duvall, Duwall, Kyle, MacDewell, MacDill, MacDole, MacDool, MacDougall, McDougal, MacDouyl, M'Douwille, Macduoel, Mcdoual, Mcdoll, MacDowall, MacDowal, McDowall, McDowal, MacDowell, McDowell, MacDowile, MacDowile, MacDowile, MacDowilt, MacDuael, MacDuel, McDuhile, MacDull, Macduuyl, Macduyl, Makdougall, Makdull, Mcduwell, M'Gowall, Mactheuel


	2. The First Day

It had been ten years since that momentous Wizengamot session, Harry Potter had been living comfortably with the Clan MacDowall, he had a happy life growing up and Fergus MacDowall treated him like his own son. He did enjoy growing up with his "siblings", in fact three of them acted as if they were triplets, Cassiopeia Black and Andrea Evangeline MacDowall (Fergus's eldest daughter and clan heiress) and his younger twin sisters, Alexis and Annabella. Cassiopeia was quite tall for her age with pitch black waist length hair with natural soft ringlets and stormy grey eyes, Andrea was a little short for her age with chestnut coloured wavy hair that went down to the bottom of her shoulder blades and green eyes. It was now September the first and they were eleven and now going to Hogwarts, although they complained about the journey to get there, all the way from Glasgow to London to catch a train that goes further north than Glasgow, it's just a wasted journey. The train had been on the move for over an hour, the three of them had a compartment to themselves but their quiet conversation was not meant to continue.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.

"Sorry, we haven't seen it," said Cassie (Cassiopeia's nickname), she was the most out spoken of the three of them. When she saw all three had their wands out, they were still getting used to using wands, she became very interested.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

As one the three said "Lumos" and a ball of white light appeared at the ends of each of their wands.

"I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard — I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Cassie, the same thought running through their heads: how did she say the in breath.

"I'm Cassiopeia Black,"

"Andrea MacDowall

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione.

"I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books, for background reading, and you're in _Modern Magical History _and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Yes, I know but I wouldn't trust some of that information, its mostly wild speculation."

"What so no one investigated the events? Do any of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad… Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad."

Before she could leave a gangly red-head burst in and knocked Hermione back a couple of steps, he immediately turned to harry and said "Hi I'm Ron Weasley, you must be Harry Potter, I know we'll be the best of friends because you're the boy-who-lived and my family is as light as they come. You three out, so I can talk with my best friend". The last part was addressed at the three girls in the compartment.

"Mr Wealsey, I don't know who you think you are to come barging in here and telling my friends to get out the compartment they were in before you showed up but ..." he replied to the incredibly rude boy who just barged in but before he could continue his thought the compartment door opened again.

Standing in the door was a white blond boy with a pale pointed face; he was flanked by two thickset and rather mean looking boys that were standing either side of the pale boy looking like bodyguards.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger.

Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. You need someone of the same social standing, I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly "and we are not on the same social standing no matter what delusions your father has imbued in you."

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks at the first part of Harry's reply but as it continued you could see him getting angry.

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and these mudbloods, it'll rub off on you."

"Malfoy! Get out before you make an even larger fool of yourself than you already have, you French upstart

"You will regret this Potter! When my father hears about this..."

He was interrupted by Harry, Cassie and Andi (Andrea) stand up and pointing their wands at him. "Out!" they said as one and with one last sneer he left, his bodyguard trailing after him. "You as well Weasley" said Harry jerking his wand at the door, the dazed red-head left.

"What was that about?" asked Hermione.

The other three people in the compartment looked at each other, seemingly to have a silent conversation before Andrea nodded and began, "the Malfoy family, or rather the branch of the family that Draco is part of, came over to Britain during the French Revolution as the disenfranchised second son of the French Malfoi's, on the magical side the revolutionists never managed to overtake the government. When they came over they had nothing except a decent background (if you ignore the reason they had to leave France), until 1828 they lived in squalor, but they somehow (and no one knows how) managed to marry the last daughter of a magical baron, the children of that marriage became the Malfoy's and once again had a title."

Cassiopeia continued "after they became barons, they started acting like the be all and end all of magical "high society". They became true believes in blood purity and wherever possible they acted to further their goal of making everyone but those of the purest blood, to have no power or rights. Even to this day they still act as if they were on the top rung of society, they are not, they are lower upper class no matter what delusions of superiority they have."

Harry finished the explanation "he didn't check to see if his assumptions were correct, to his bigoted sensibilities you are a"mudblood", neither Cassie or Andi are mudbloods. In fact, they are my only social equals (if I actually cared), we three are heirs to duchies, there are only four magical duchies left, only two of them have sitting dukes."

"Will his attitude be common in the pupils?" Hermione asked sounding slightly fearful.

"Well, Hogwarts is mostly a school for magical aristocracy, so there will be some with that attitude but it's only really common among those who believe in blood purity, which is a powerful and vocal minority."

"What do you mean Hogwarts is mostly a school for magical aristocracy? That's not in _Hogwarts A History._" asked Hermione.

"Hogwarts is the oldest magical school, and is therefore allowed to be exclusive. When more and more magical schools started opening, the headmaster at the time managed to finagle an agreement for the wizarding lords to keep coming to Hogwarts. Most of the students in the school are the children of lords, but you will also find the children of rich families (magical or mundane) and the muggleborns of the "greatest" potential, although no one knows how this potential is measured so we have no way of knowing if this is true or not. _Hogwarts A History _is written about the school and what happens within it."

They invited Hermione to come back after she finished helping Neville to find his toad.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later the train had travelled most of the way, up the country and into the highlands, it was getting dark. They could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, a voice sounded from a man that appeared to be twice as tall as a grown man: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

"C'mon, follow me — any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the giant called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Hermione shared a boat with Harry, Andrea and Cassiopeia.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself.

"Right then — FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass.

Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" he yelled as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of a detached house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" Harry heard someone standing next to Weasley asked.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Harry and his companions scoffed at this, as if the school would allow the students to get hurt during term (outside of sports injuries). He looked around and saw that everyone looked terrified. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Harry quietly told her to stop whispering as she was making the people near her very nervous.

Then something happened that made everyone jump about a foot in the air — several people screamed.

"What the —?"

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. He'd never actually meet one; they were very uncommon outside of highly magical areas. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance —"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves?

He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost — I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Cassie behind him and Andrea behind her, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Harry had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets.

At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, Harry looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Hermione whisper, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, A History_."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty.

Noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, _  
_But don't judge on what you see, _  
_I'll eat myself if you can find_  
_A smarter hat than me._  
Yo_u can keep your bowlers black, _  
_Your top hats sleek and tall, _  
_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_  
_And I can cap them all._  
_There's nothing hidden in your head_  
_The Sorting Hat can't see, _  
_So try me on and I will tell you_  
_Where you ought to be._  
_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
_Where dwell the brave at heart,_  
_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_  
_Set Gryffindors apart;_  
_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_  
_Where they are just and loyal,_  
_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_  
_And unafraid of toil;_  
_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_  
_if you've a ready mind,_  
_Where those of wit and learning,_  
_Will always find their kind;_  
_Or perhaps in Slytherin_  
_You'll make your real friends,_  
_Those cunning folk use any means_  
_To achieve their ends._  
_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
_And don't get in a flap!_  
_You're in safe hands (though I have none) _  
_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered. "I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry and his companions scoffed at this, as if the school would allow the students to wrestle such a dangerous creature. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause —

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Black, Cassiopeia!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the second new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR,"

Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

"MacDowall, Andrea"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"…, "Nott"…, "Parkinson"…, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"…, then "Perks, Sally-Anne"…, and then, at last —

"Potter, Harold!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The _Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him.

Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either and very loyal. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes — and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting…So where shall I put you?"

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _with my friends_.

"Not Slytherin then, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that no? Well, if you're sure — better be GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. He hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. A red-headed prefect he later found out to be called Percy got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the ginger twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harry sat down opposite the ghost in the ruff he'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm, giving Harry the sudden, horrible feeling he'd just plunged it into a bucket of ice-cold water.

He could see the High Table properly now. At the end nearest him sat the giant man who lead them across the lake, Hagrid he thinks the Gamekeeper. And there, in the centre of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat Albus Dumbledore.

Harry recognized him at once from the photo's he'd seen. Dumbledore's silver hair was the only thing in the whole hall that shone as brightly as the ghosts.

Harry spotted a peculiar looking teacher, who wore a purple turban.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Weasley's turn. He was pale green by now. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to the ginger twins.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously, as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago. Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he — a bit mad?" he heard someone ask Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes?"

The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. It was all delicious.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak.

"Can't you —?"

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service, resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you — you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer _you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy —" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly _Headless? How can you be _nearly _headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like _this_," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces,

Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So — new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row. The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable — he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him." The others laughed.

"That's no laughing matter; he could have left your mum or become abusive!" Andrea said.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

"That's terrible! I'll be telling Fergus to have a word with her" said Cassie.

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons "I _do _hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult —";

"You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing — ".

Harry, who was starting to feel warm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. The professor in that absurd turban was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes — and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look — a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.

"Who are the teacher in the turban and the person he's talking to?" he asked Percy.

"Oh, that's Quirrell No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to — everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again.

The hall fell silent.

"Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere — the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favourite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _  
_Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march.

Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harry's legs were like lead again, but only because he was so tired and full of food. He was too sleepy even to be surprised that the people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries.

They climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Harry was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves — show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. They all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armour as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it — Neville needed a leg up — and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cosy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase — they were obviously in one of the towers — they found their beds at last: five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains.

Their trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, they pulled on their pyjamas and fell into bed.

"Great food, isn't it?" Ron muttered to no particular. "Get _off_, Scabbers! He's chewing my sheets."

Perhaps Harry had eaten a bit too much, because he had a very strange dream. He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully — and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it — then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold — there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.

He rolled over and fell asleep again, and when he woke next day, he didn't remember the dream at all.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Authors Notes:

This fic is not a Weasley bash, but just Ron; he is a moron that's it.


End file.
